


can we skip to the good part?

by ObscureReference



Series: (had me feeling like a) ghost [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, Character Death Fix, Communication, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: “Gentiana.” Then Noctis corrected himself. “Shiva. Did she say anything to you?”That you wished for me,Prompto thought. That Noctis had wished so hard for so long that a miracle had happened.But that knowledge made Prompto’s heart skip several beats and it made his head feel like he’d stuck it in a bucket of ice water, so Prompto said, “Not really.”





	can we skip to the good part?

**Author's Note:**

> Good golly Miss Molly, did this take 8,000 years to write. I thought it was going to go one direction when actually it went another entirely, but figuring that out took forever and a day. Thank you so much for your patience! And thank you so much to everyone who reviewed on those previous parts! Even if I didn't reply to you personally, please know that when writing was rough and I needed the motivation, I looked back on all your comments and read them over and over and over and they warmed my heart. So thank you! To all of you!
> 
> I don't have much else to say because I don't want to spoil anything, so I'll say that a link to some more extensive notes on my tumblr is at the bottom and I hope you have a good read!
> 
> (I've read this over like 800 times, so if something got messed up when transferring this to ao3, let me know and I'll fix it!)

It was a long walk back to the Citadel, and even Noctis couldn’t keep up the rushed, anxious gait he had forever; his back would begin to irritate him sooner rather than later from it, unless that too had changed in the time Prompto had been away.

They were about halfway home by the time Noctis began to slow. The arm he had wrapped around Prompto’s torso tightened, squeezing Prompto once before he let go. His had drifted to Prompto’s arm instead, his fingers circling loosely around Prompto’s wrist—around the spot Prompto’s codeprint still lay in stark contrast to his pale skin, still hidden and sharp under his wristband after all everything he’d been through. Noctis’ grip was loose, but the weight of his touch on Prompto’s skin still laid heavy.

Prompto slowed to keep pace as well. He chewed on the inside of his mouth.

Judging from Noctis’ reaction, going off on his own hadn’t been the best idea.

He’d _thought_ it’d be okay. Now, in hindsight, Prompto could see he’d let his eagerness get the better of him. He wasn’t oblivious enough to think it wasn’t his fault. He’d gone off by himself without so much as a note left behind, and of _course_ that would look bad to the guys. He’d probably given them a heart attack and a half.

Ouch. He winced at the thought. It had only been yesterday that Gladio had confessed his fears of forgetting, though it suddenly felt like it had been forever since then. Of _course_ Prompto disappearing would spook him, even if the big guy didn’t want to admit it. Even if it felt weird to admit to _himself_. And he’d noticed how jittery Noct and Iggy had gotten when Prompto mentioned wanted to go to the park. If only past Prompto hadn’t been so single-mindedly focused. If only he had put it together sooner.

Prompto had always known he didn’t pick up on social cues as easily as Gladio or even Ignis, but being the reason behind the tight press of Noctis’ lips still stung.

“Hey,” he said when Noctis had held himself too stiffly for too long; Noct’s back surely had to be aching by now. “We can take a rest if you need to.”

“I’m fine.” Noctis didn’t yell, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. He voice wasn’t biting, but it was gruff and he wasn’t looking Prompto’s way.

The tips of Prompto’s shoes scraped against the pavement. He tried again.

“I’m really sorry,” Prompto said, his voice thin.

Noctis’ thumb brushed against the point Prompto’s pulse would have been if his wristband hadn’t been in the way.

“I know,” he said.

“Yeah. I’m just.” Prompto’s boot scraped against the pavement again. “Sorry.”

Noctis breathed out heavily through his nose. This time, he looked at Prompto. He sounded tired. “I know, Prom.”

Prompto looked at the sidewalk.

A block away from the Citadel, Noctis pulled him aside and pressed a handkerchief into Prompto’s hand. If there were any other dog walkers headed to the park, they steered clear when they saw their king’s serious face.

“You, uh, got a little something. On your face.” For a moment, Noctis looked like the awkward twenty year old Prompto had once known, and then that Noctis was gone, replaced with a very regal if tired looking man.

Maybe that was part of Prompto’s problem. He kept comparing the Noct in front of him to the one he’d known so long ago. It was as much the time that had passed for Noctis as it was the time that _hadn’t_ passed for Prompto. Everything felt like new territory when it should have felt worn. The constant comparisons weren’t helping him adjust to the now.

But that was something to consider another time, when Prompto _had_ more time. He wiped at his nose with the handkerchief. The previously fresh blood from his nosebleed had congealed, and now it clung to his skin, somewhat gummy. Gross.

He cleaned up most of it, but eventually Noctis took the cloth back and cleaned the parts of his face Prompto couldn’t see. His touch was gentle, and that only made Prompto feel worse. There was still a bit of blood on Noctis’ hand from where he’d swiped the nosebleed away—which had still been a gross thing to do, by the way—and the king quickly cleaned that off as well before shoving the now stained handkerchief into a pocket, out of sight.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Thought it’d be better if Gladio and Specs don’t see.”

“Probably.” Prompto wasn’t quite sure what the story behind that was, but if his nosebleed bothered Noctis that much, he believed flaunting it would be a bad idea. Not that his nosebleeds had seemed to bother them _too_ much, way back when.

But, hey. Prompto knew more than anyone how things could change.

They stood there for a moment. The frantic look Noctis had worn when he’d found Prompto and the knowledge that Ignis and Gladio were waiting hung between them.

“Gentiana.” Then Noctis corrected himself. “Shiva. Did she say anything to you?”

 _That you wished for me_ , Prompto thought. That Noctis had wished so hard for so long that a miracle had happened.

But that knowledge made Prompto’s heart skip several beats and it made his head feel like he’d stuck it in a bucket of ice water, so Prompto said, “Not really.”

He would tell them. Later. When he felt less overwhelmed.

 _Because you’ve always been so good at promises_ , Prompto’s brain reminded him. Promises to never leave Noctis’ side _(failed)_ , promises to communicate _(currently failing)_. Promises they had made just a day ago _(soon to fail)_. Prompto had never been good at keeping those, but he still felt awful every time. The guilt sat on him like a weight. He bit the inside of his cheek again.

“Okay,” Noctis said. He accepted Prompto at face value, and that made Prompto feel even worse. He reached out and caressed Prompto’s cheek, his fingertips tickling the ends of Prompto’s hair. His hand was warm against Prompto’s skin. “For the record, I’m sorry too.”

Prompto looked up at him, surprised. It felt like Noctis had somehow squeezed an extra inch of height in between twenty and thirty. “For what?”

Noctis shrugged. His hand dropped lower to hug the curve of Prompto’s jaw.

“For freaking out a little,” he said. He caught the look on Prompto’s face and stressed, “A _little_.”

Prompto wasn’t exactly startled, but this felt—different than how a younger Noct would have apologized. For one thing, nobody had goaded him into it after he’d sulked for a few days.

Then Prompto blinked. There he went again, making comparisons between the then and now. He _really_ needed to stop doing that.

Of course Noctis had grown since then. Of _course_ he had. It had been ten years. He had been king for all of them.

Prompto needed to start over. A clean slate. No more comparisons.

 _Promises_ , his mind repeated.

He ignored it.

“Sure,” he said. “A _little_ freaked out. It’s okay, I know how incredibly desirable I am.” The weight on his shoulders lifted as Noctis pretended to grimace. “Seriously, though—Sorry. About not waiting for you guys to get back. I should have stayed.”

“Yeah, well.” Noctis sighed. “Your impatience _is_ legendary.”

“Look who’s talking, Mister Can’t Wait Two Minutes Until I Dry My Hair,” Prompto teased. The memories of arguing over who was hogging the bathroom still sat fresh in his mind.

“That’s a long name.”

“Fit for a king.”

Noctis’ hand left Prompto’s jaw to ruffle his hair, and Prompto swatted it away with a laugh.

“Okay, okay,” Prompto relented, dancing a few steps back out of Noctis’ reach. “I’ll stop annoying you now.”

Noctis snorted, but the tightness had left his eyes and there was an easy curve to his smile. Prompto’s heart slowed down from its hundred beats per minute to a normal human speed. “As if you’d ever.”

Prompto smiled. “Fair.”

He didn’t say, _You love me anyway though._ He already knew Noctis did.

 

 

 

For some reason Prompto expected Ignis and Gladio to be standing on the front steps like two disapproving parents waiting on their kid to come back late from prom. They weren’t.

The halls were strangely empty as Prompto and Noctis walked back to, presumably, Noctis’ quarters. It wasn’t until Prompto thought about it for a moment that he realized why that was so weird. The Citadel was a big place; it should have been full of people. The halls weren’t nearly as bustling as they should have been.

Not that he had done a lot of hanging around the Citadel before now. He’d visited before, however, back when King Regis saw his son off to the marriage that would never happen, and Prompto still remembered how many people he’d squeezed past to reach the throne room, how many guards he swore were judging him as he stood in the lobby, sure they couldn’t believe his Crownsguard uniform really belonged to him. It felt like only a fraction of those people were around now.

It had taken them longer than they had liked to return to Insomnia, back then. After the Crystal, after the world had gone dark. It had taken… weeks, probably, to return. Not that it had been easy to keep track of the days. It had all begun to blur together at some point. It had taken a long time.

How many people had been lost then, he wondered. How many disappeared into the dark? Enough that he could still see the empty spaces now, a decade later.

Ignis and Gladio were waiting in the bedroom the way Prompto should have been. Ignis must have heard them coming because he began to stand before Noctis opened the door all the way. Gladio stayed leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. He didn’t look pleased.

Neither did Ignis, but the concern on his face was more palpable as he faced the doorway.

“Noct?” he asked.

“I’m here,” Prompto said. Some of the creases on Ignis’ face faded at the sound of Prompto’s voice.

“Prompto,” Ignis breathed. His shoulders dropped slightly. “Impatient as ever, I see.”

His voice was gentle, and somehow that felt worse. Prompto winced. “Sorry.”

Gladio fixed him with a look, his voice a low rumble. “Was it worth it?”

And wasn’t that the million gil question? Prompto considered it. He knew a little more than he had before, but at the same time…

He shrugged. “I guess,” he said.

“Gentiana was there,” Noctis offered.

Prompto hadn’t expected Noctis _not_ to tell them, but part of him still wished he hadn’t. He tried to disguise his wince, but he was sure Gladio caught it anyway. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Ignis had too, somehow.

Gladio leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and Ignis looked interested.

“She say anything important?” Gladio asked.

“Prom said no,” Noctis said, and something about Noct’s lie—involuntary as it was—made Prompto feel more sure of himself. The words were already out of his mouth and it would be weird to contradict himself now that they were all together, so—Prompto had to wait for later. For a better time.

Prompto said, “She didn’t say a lot. Plus, I think Noct was the only one who ever understood that cryptic Astral stuff.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ignis said, pushing his dark glasses farther up his nose. Prompto ducked his head. “A few critical thinking skills go a long way.”

Gladio grunted in agreement. “You could benefit from some of that.”

Prompto thought they believed him. He hoped.

“Are you glad to have gone, at the very least?” Ignis’ voice was sharp, and Prompto got the feeling he was answering a lot more than what was at face value.

“Yeah,” he said, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. “Even if we didn’t get much out of it, at least we know now.” Staying in the doorway was awkward after Noct abandoned him to stretch out across the bed. Prompto ventured a little farther into the room, but he didn’t sit with the rest of the guys, opting instead to linger closer to the wall in case anyone was still mad. “Sorry I didn’t wait,” he said again.

He was going to start losing skin with how much he was chewing on his lip. By the Six, did Prompto feel so bad when he lied. Especially when it didn’t make anyone happier.

Gladio sighed heavily. There was still a stiffness in his jaw, but he straightened and said, “As long as you don’t make a habit of it, I think we can let it slide this one time.”

For a moment Prompto was surprised. Then he beamed.

Then Gladio added, “I also expect you at the training grounds at six o’clock sharp tomorrow.”

“Do you mean in the evening?” Prompto hedged.

“You wish.”

Prompto deflated. Gladio looked significantly satisfied at his despair.

Ignis hummed in agreement. “That sounds reasonable enough. A few dozen one-armed pushups might do you some good.”

He began to pick his way around the table as Prompto moaned, “I get it! You guys just want to torture me!”

“Who, us?” Ignis teased. “Never.” There was no disguising his smirk. He looped his arm through Prompto’s after Prompto stepped forward and only half a second of fumbling. “Come now. I do expect you not to stand in the corner all night.”

He let himself be led to the chairs. Prompto eyed the bed even as he and Ignis sat.

“No bed?” he asked.

“It is not nearly late enough to go to sleep,” Ignis said. “And some of us still have real work to accomplish today.”

Noctis’ voice drifted from the pile of covers he had buried himself in. “The King decrees that it’s time for a nap.”

Ignis let loose an exaggerated sigh. “The things we do for monarchy.”

“Tell me about it.” Prompto rolled his eyes and said in a stage whisper, “I think we should start a coup.”

“Hear, hear,” Gladio agreed, tipping an imaginary cup in his direction. Prompto laughed as Noctis groaned.

“Just for future reference,” Gladio said after a moment had passed while Prompto relaxed into his chair. “It’d probably be better for you to keep a phone on you.”

Noctis kicked a pillow off the bed. “Specs.”

“I’ve already made the necessary arrangements,” Ignis said.

The absence of a cellphone hadn’t been that apparent over the past few days. Granted, that was mostly because everyone Prompto usually talked to was right in front of him and he hadn’t been left alone for a single moment since he’d returned. But now that he thought about it, he realized a phone would be pretty nice.

“Now,” Ignis said. “I do believe today was meant to be a relaxation day.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Noctis sighed. Ignis’ mouth turned up in an amused grin. Prompto turned sideways in his seat and threw his legs over the side of his chair, into Ignis’s lap.

Glado flipped his book open—a title Prompto didn’t recognize, but the spine was worn and the pages dog-eared. He thought Noctis was already half asleep on the bed. Ignis had no braille book of his own and he did not seem tired, but he ran his hands over Prompto’s clothed legs and rubbed at the skin of his ankle. Prompto wondered what his new phone would look like. Surely there had been some technological improvements in the past few years. Maybe phones talked to people now. Like robots. That would be cool.

He managed to relax for approximately two seconds before he shot up, his feet hitting the floor with a _thump_. He saw Ignis jerk, startled. Gladio raised an eyebrow over the top of his book.

“Oh my god!” Prompto groaned. “My King’s Knight account! All my levels and ore! They’re gone!”

All those hours he had poured into the game, and now he’d have to start from scratch again. Prompto moaned into his hands.

Ignis sighed, long and loud as Gladio reached out and shoved at Prompto’s shoulder.

“Hey!”

“Some things never change,” Gladio grumbled. He crossed his arms.

Out of the corner of his eye, Prompto saw Noctis lift his head. His hair was messier than it had been five minutes ago. Some things never changed, indeed. He smirked at Prompto.

“This means I out-level you, one hundred to one.”

“I can catch up!” Prompto protested.

He could not catch up. It would take another twenty years before he could catch up.

This was the worst day of Prompto’s life.

He turned to look at Ignis, voice pleading. “Ignis! I definitely need a phone as soon as possible!”

“Of course,” Ignis said dryly, pretending he didn’t already have a new phone stashed away somewhere like Prompto knew he did. “For your video games and not so we can communicate like adults. Duly noted.”

Gladio took the opportunity to lean into Prompto’s ear and loudly whisper, “Ignis outranks Noctis’s Knight level and has for years.”

“Absolutely false,” Noctis said loudly. “A King is never bested.”

Gladio snorted. “Tell that to the score board.”

Ignis tilted his chin towards the ceiling, dutifully ignoring them both.

Prompto’s face couldn’t have fallen any more than if he’d been pushed off a cliff. He was ten years behind in King’s Knight experience. All those special events he had missed. All the extra points he could have been holding over Noct’s head. All those levels he had to climb again.

This would haunt him for all of time.

 

 

 

It was Noctis and Ignis who went to get Prompto’s new phone after Ignis received some kind of alert on his touchpad—some kind of chirp Prompto heard even with one earbud dangling from Ignis’ ear—and as much as he pretended not to notice their absence in the few minutes they were gone, he failed pretty spectacularly. He attempted to distract himself by begging Gladio to read bawdy passages from his awful romance novel while Gladio denied him, insisting he read only the finest literature, but even that hadn’t been enough.

They had been gone for perhaps ten minutes and Gladio was no closer to cracking when Ignis and Noctis returned triumphant, phone box dangling from Noctis’ hand. Prompto could help but notice they had come back slightly different. They both came back looking lighter, somehow. Less solemn.

Was he imagining it? Had they talked Prompto or things they didn’t want him to know? Had this morning’s adventure not blown over as well as he hoped? Of course it hadn’t; it would have been silly to think otherwise. A few apologies didn’t make up for running out on them. And it _wouldn’t_ make up for lying either, once they knew.

And then the terrible news came.

 

 

 

Prompto held the app screen up with tears in his eyes. His new phone was shiny and silver, but that did nothing to lessen the tragedy laid out before him.

“You’re telling me,” he said slowly. “There’s a King’s Knight _3_?”

When had the second one come out? Prompto had missed everything he loved in this world while he’d been gone!

That actually stung a little more than it should have, and Prompto pretended he was still thinking about the game.

“You snooze, you lose,” Noctis said.

Ignis raised an eyebrow. He sniffed. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Prompto wore his best wounded expression and waited for something remotely approaching good news to be revealed.

“You know, Gladio has the lowest level between the three of us so far,” Noctis offered.

Gladio coughed something that sounded like _you little shit._ “Some of us have actual work to do, Your Laziness,” he added.

Prompto stared at Gladio, phone in hand. “You’re starting over with me,” he said.

“Absolutely not.”

“Gladio.”

“No.”

“ _Gladio_.”

“I worked hard for those levels.”

“He’s only level twelve,” Ignis said.

Gladio shot him a wounded glare, obviously betrayed.

“Gladio!” Prompto wailed.

“I worked hard for those levels!”

“Please stop waving your phone around until you put it in a case,” Ignis cut in. “I can feel you slicing through the air from over here, and as much as I’d love picking broken glass from my face, I’m afraid I have to pass today.”

Noctis said, “Gladio, as your king, I order you to start over.”

“With all due respect,” Gladio said. “Hell no.”

 

 

 

They came to an impasse.

Gladio could be a stone wall when he wanted to be. Noctis rolled his eyes every time he caught Prompto sending pleading looks Gladio’s way between cutscenes as Gladio passively pretended not to notice like the faker he was.

Eventually Prompto resigned himself to the fact he had to start over all by himself and got to work.

He made it to level three by that afternoon, and Ignis patted him on the back in consolation.

 

 

 

Eventually, they did get the mini-vacation they’d planned.

To Prompto, it still felt like the events from this morning were hanging over his head, but it wasn’t brought up again, and by the afternoon everyone had settled into some kind of lethargic routine.

He’d half expected something more adventurous for their first free day together—something outdoors, maybe—but he suspected the excitement of that morning had worn them all thin. At least, it had worn at him and Noctis, and neither Gladio or Ignis brought up going out by the time the clock struck two.

Despite the fact it was a vacation day, Ignis was still working. Easy work, he assured Prompto. He had headphones one, though the audio was too low for Prompto to hear. Every now and again he tapped the computer tablet in his lap in a rhythm.

“Two taps to accept whatever proposal he got emailed,” Gladio explained. He had migrated to lay across the long lounge that was pressed against the foot of the bed. “One tap for no. For the easy stuff, not anything that needs a longer response.”

Gladio was reading, and he sat slouched, one leg on the floor and the other on the lunge, his grip on his book easy and relaxed. Prompto was hyper-aware of every time Gladio’s eyes drifted from the page and in his and Ignis’ direction.

Every now and again Ignis raised the tiny built-in microphone on his headphones to his lips and dictated into it. Most of it was in regards to proposals Prompto had no reference for. Ignis made a lot of corrections, but sometimes he said something short like, “Good work.” He rubbed absently at Prompto’s ankle with his free hand.

Prompto hung his head off the side of his chair and in-between level grinding, he watched with tilted vision as Noctis ever so slowly squirmed his way from the center of the bed to the foot of it. It took over an hour. Prompto’s progression in the game did not go as nearly as far as he’d hoped it would in that time.

Eventually, after another ten minutes of careful teetering, Noctis rolled off the mattress and on top of Gladio. The big guy must have been expecting it because only a small burst of air escaped his lips as Noctis landed on him with his full weight.

Gladio feigned being unaffected, though he lazily slung an arm around Noctis’ waist as the king buried his face into Gladio’s shoulder. Warmth bloomed in Prompto’s chest as he watched.

This. This was nice.

“You’re very cold, you know,” Ignis remarked at some point. “Would you like me to turn the heat up?”

Prompto shrugged, his shoulders dragging against the fabric of the cushion. His back was starting to ache from the arm of the chair digging into his back for so long, but he felt too lazy to move. “Nah, I’m good.”

Finally, after nearly two hours of napping like the old man he wasn’t yet, Noctis cracked open an eye. “Anyone else hungry?”

“I could eat,” Gladio said.

“Same,” said Prompto.

Ignis set his tablet aside. “Shall I escort you to the kitchens, Your Majesty?”

Surprisingly, Noctis rolled off Gladio without having to be nudged. Hunger really was the best motivator.

“Who else will keep me out of trouble?” he said.

“He really needs it,” Prompto added, pretending for a moment that Ignis hadn’t once “accidentally” mixed up the salt and sugar in some tiny cakes he’d made after Noctis had been acting particularly bratty one week. That had been years and years ago, back when Prompto was still sixteen and even he had been wondering if he should go home for the day to get out of the prince’s sulky path.

That cakes had been a wake-up call for both Noctis and Prompto; after spitting out a chunk of nasty cake into the garbage, Noctis had finally kicked himself out of his funk, and Prompto realized Ignis wasn’t above human pettiness.

They were all troublemakers, Ignis included.

Ganging up on Noct was sometimes too much fun, though.

Noctis gave Prompto a friendly swat as he passed. He wrapped his pinky finger around Ignis’ right after.

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “Leaving your room willingly? Twice in one day? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t the king.”

Ignis snorted.

“Congratulations,” Noctis said. “I’m training you to be my replacement. I hope you can handle the job.”

“Considering all I’d have to do to be considered your twin is take a nap, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Truly identical,” Ignis drawled. Prompto laughed.

Noctis rolled his eyes and led Ignis through the door, their pinky fingers still intertwined. That was something they had done on-and-off after the darkness came. Apparently they hadn’t stopped.

Gladio was waving Prompto over before the door had fully closed.

“C’mere,” Gladio said.

With Ignis gone, there wasn’t much enticing Prompto to stay in his increasingly cramped chair. His back thanked him gratefully as he stood, spine aching. In under a second, he had himself slotted neatly against the larger man, trapping one of his knees between Gladio’s leg and the foot of the bed. The other knee ended up between Gladio’s own.

Gladio set his book on the floor, wrapping his arms around Prompto’s torso. His palms felt broad against Prompto’s back.

“You sure are handsy today,” Prompto teased. He pressed his nose into Gladio’s neck the way Noctis had done. He gently rose and fell to the rhythm of Gladio’s chest. “First Noct and now me. I’d say you’ve become a softy.”

“What’s wrong with a little touching?” Gladio said. “I haven’t gotten touch you all day.” He jumped slightly as Prompto burrowed in. “Jeez, you really are ice.”

“Let me and my poor circulation live in peace,” Prompto said. Gladio pressed his warm lips to Prompto’s forehead and kissed him along his hairline. Then he stayed there, lips on skin.

His eyes fell shut. Prompto watched him through his eyelashes.

Eventually, Gladio pulled back just enough so he could speak.

“You know,” he said, his voice much softer than it had been. “You really gave Iggy and Noct a scare earlier when you went off on your own.”

Gladio said _Iggy and Noct_ like he wasn’t included on that list. Prompto had known Gladio long enough that for all his macho persona, that wasn’t necessarily true.

“I get having to do things by yourself,” Gladio continued. He adjusted Prompto’s weight on his chest. “Just give us a warning next time.”

“I will,” Prompto promised. He pulled out of Gladio’s neck to look him in the eye. “No worries. See, I’ve got a phone now and everything.”

He squirmed so Gladio could feel the outline of the phone in his pocket. Gladio breathed out through his nose. A chuckle.

“ _Is_ that a phone in your pocket, or…”

Prompto pretended to think about it. He donned his best “innocent” voice. “I don’t know, officer. You tell me.”

Gladio’s nose brushed Prompto’s cheek. There was a flash of teeth as he grinned. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Prompto breathed in. Breathed out. When Gladio tugged him up, he followed until their faces were aligned and he practically sat on jut of Gladio’s hip.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Somehow the whole world felt softer. Maybe it was the light streaming through the window, revealing the blue, blue sky beyond. Maybe it was the fact he’d expected Gladio’s frustration to still be simmering somewhere under the surface, only to be met with gentleness. For all his new scars, Gladio seemed a lot more forgiving than he had been at twenty-three. That Gladio would be holding Prompto’s actions over his head for days. This Gladio just wanted to hold _him_.

What had that change been like, Prompto wondered. How gradual had it been?

Gladio didn’t kiss him immediately. His eyes trailed over the curve of Prompto’s face, drinking in every detail. His hand drifted upwards to brush some of Prompto’s hair out of his eyes. Prompto felt the callouses on Gladio’s fingers as he did. His heart jumped. He pressed the palm of his hand against Gladio’s pec.

This close, Prompto could see in fine detail how much Gladio had aged. He looked rugged and handsome, even with the thin, light scars on his forehead and cheek and the slightly more obvious ones over his eye. Prompto thought saying so out loud would have gone to Gladio’s head, though, so he didn’t. But he thought it very much. 

When Gladio leaned in, he was careful. Gentle. His mouth pressed against Prompto’s, soft and warm, and even though Prompto’s lips were slightly parted, he didn’t move until Prompto kissed him back.

There were times when Gladio could be as rough as any of them—sometimes even rougher—but he was just as often gentle and slow. Prompto was hard pressed to find a time Gladio had been softer and sweeter than the current moment felt. The big guy really could be a sap.

Prompto loved him so much his heart ached.

Gladio kissed lazily, steadily, as he moved at his own set pace. He felt so good pressed against Prompto. Prompto kept one hand on Gladio’s chest and the other buried itself in Gladio’s hair. There was so much of it now. It felt thicker than before, though that may have been Prompto’s imagination. The unfaltering heartbeat under his fingertips, however, was certainly not.

Gladio’s lips were smooth in a way the rest of him wasn’t, and Prompto liked the contrast. He worked Prompto’s lips apart leisurely, following the push and pull of a tide that only he felt and that Prompto rode until he was awash in the waves. Gladio’s hand drifted up and down, up and down Prompto’s spine as their mouths moved against one another, another addition to the current Gladio had created. He was warm and solid under Prompto. In that moment, Prompto couldn’t have wanted anything more. 

The closest Gladio came to being less than kind was when his teeth grazed Prompto’s lower lip. It wasn’t quite a nip; there wasn’t nearly enough pressure for that. But it was a general reminder, a feeling, and Prompto’s breath hitched at it. At the same time, he felt Gladio sigh into his mouth. If there were things Gladio wanted to say, he poured those feelings into his kiss instead.

It was hard to keep track of the minutes that passed. Gladio was unwavering in everything he did, and Prompto didn’t want it to end.

Prompto delayed pulling away as he heard the door open and didn’t actually look up until Noctis cleared his throat. When he finally did, he found Noctis’ face warm and perhaps a little jealous.

“I see you two decided to have some fun without us,” he said.

Prompto rested his cheek on Gladio’s shoulder as Gladio turned his head. “You were gone,” Gladio said.

“I do hope your pants are on,” Ignis said as he slowly and carefully set the tray on the table. Whatever was under the dish covers smelled _good_. “I would hate for your meal to grow cold while you washed up.”

The idea of doing more, of going further than kissing, made Prompto’s face heat up. He wasn’t a virgin by any means and hadn’t been for years. But already, just kissing Gladio felt like relearning old tricks again. It was the most physical intimacy he’d had with any of them since he’d returned, sans sleeping in the same bed each night. But even that sleeping together wasn’t _sleeping_ together. And now, with so much time passed and all the ways their bodies may have changed, all the ways their likes and dislikes may have been rearranged, how different they looked now compared to then, more mature and filled out and, overall, different…

It was, admittedly, somewhat intimidating.

Not that Prompto didn’t love them or the way they looked, because he absolutely did. It was, however, very _new_ again.

He was nervous.

“You wouldn’t wait for us?” Prompto said instead of any of those things, faking hurt. His lips felt swollen.

“Time waits for no man,” Ignis replied easily. He was already grabbing his own plate. “And neither does lunch.”

Noctis plopped into a seat. “What he said.”

Gladio and Prompto groaned simultaneously. They got up.

They ate in the bedroom—either because they hadn’t come up with a good excuse as to why Prompto was hanging around the Citadel yet or because Noctis was feeling too tired to leave, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he wasn’t complaining. It felt good to spend time together like this—kissing lazily, eating good food. Enjoying each other’s company the way they hadn’t gotten the chance to do for so long.

When their plates were mostly empty, Noctis pushed Prompto’s knee with his foot.

“Hey,” he said.

Prompto swallowed the last of his chicken. “Hey yourself.”

Noctis had pressed his chair against Ignis’ and he leaned against his advisor’s side. “So I was thinking—”

“That’s a first,” Gladio said.

“That’s just as hilarious as the first hundred times you said that,” Noctis told him. He rolled his eyes as Gladio smirked and looked back to Prompto. “Anyway, I was thinking that we missed your birthday this year.”

Prompto fumbled with his fork and miraculously didn’t drop any sauce onto the carpet. Tentatively, he said, “Uh, haven’t I missed it… every year? Since…”

Noct and the guys were all in their thirties now, but while Prompto had been born thirty years ago, he didn’t think he could count the years he’d been… away.

“Yeah, but you’re back now,” Noctis said breezily. “We missed your birthday this year, but you’re still around. Do you want to celebrate or anything?”

Prompto considered it. “I don’t know? It depends on how much I missed it by.” A thought popped into his head. Something that had been nagging at him earlier.

“That reminds me,” he said. “What day is it, exactly? I keep forgetting to ask.”

“It is currently December thirteenth,” Ignis said matter-of-factly. His plate was now bare, so he set it aside.

Prompto nodded.

“So I missed my birthday by…”

“Approximately two months,” Ignis finished.

Two months. He’d missed it by a lot this year.

He’d missed it by a lot the past _ten_ years.

“We should do something,” Noctis said.

Gladio shrugged. “I wouldn’t protest, so long as His Laziness doesn’t use this as an excuse to get out of the next few council meetings.”

Noctis shot him a look.

“I’m not even going to be king for much longer anyway,” he grumbled. “So what’s it matter?”

“It’s still your job until then.”

Ignis nodded, his fingers threaded through Noctis’ hair. “He is right. You’ve been getting rather sloppy lately.”

Noctis sighed. Prompto wrinkled his nose and tried to change the subject.

“I’m not sure I need a party or anything,” he said. “I’ve basically got everything I could ever need right here.”

Ignis crossed his legs, and Noctis shifted as he moved. “I seem to recall you saying something similar the last few times we tried to pick gifts for you as well.”

It was years ago to them, but Ignis spoke like it had been only yesterday. Prompto’s smile grew wide.

“That’s because it’s true!” he argued. It wasn’t like they didn’t figure out something to get him each year anyway, even though Prompto would have been happy with cake and some company. “Besides, I got everything I would have asked for this year already anyway.”

“Oh, yeah?” Noctis raised an eyebrow. “And what was that?”

“A new cellphone, for one thing.” He waved his new device briefly before tucking it safely back into his pocket. He didn’t want to break it just yet. Gladio huffed.

And it was pretty cheesy, but Prompto wasn’t above taking an opportunity when he saw it. “And also you three.”

Noctis’ face instantly softened as Prompto ducked his head.

“And you called me a sap,” Gladio grumbled, but his voice was thick.

“I suspected you might say as much,” Ignis said, looking rather unaffected behind his glasses, though his voice betrayed him. “However, are you sure? I wouldn’t mind whipping something up for you.”

Despite the full meal they’d just had, Prompto’s taste buds were alight at the thought of one of Ignis’ cakes. “Well, if you’re _offering_ …”

He purposely trailed off and was rewarded with a chuckle from Ignis and a smile from the other two.

“But seriously,” he continued. “I don’t think I’d even count my birthday this year anyway. I’m still probably a few months off anyhow. You know, biologically.” He shrugged. Thinking about his age in terms of when he’d been present and—not. It was kind of a bummer.

“I could do the math if you’d like,” Ignis offered. “Count the days between where you last left off and now so you’ll know when a full year has finally passed.”

His voice wasn’t tense and his body language wasn’t anything less than relaxed, but Prompto wasn’t sure how Ignis really felt about that. About acknowledging the time discrepancy that existed now. At the very least Prompto knew _he_ wasn’t into it, and he made a face to show that, even though Ignis couldn’t see it.

“Wouldn’t I be basically changing my birthday then? I could end up celebrating in February.” He gasped. “I could end up sharing a birthday with you!”

Ignis smiled. “And what a travesty that would be.”

A birthday at the start of the year instead of the end. The thought was weird. Prompto rolled his shoulders, considering it.

“I think I’m just gonna stick with the birthday I have now,” he decided. “Sorry, Igster.”

He saw Ignis mouth _Igster_ to himself and was suddenly reminded how rarely he had used that old nickname. This might have been the first time Prompto had used it since returning.

A few locks of Gladio’s hair fell over his shoulder as he cocked his head.

“You’ll be closer to twenty-two than twenty-one by then,” Gladio pointed out.

Prompto made a “meh” sound. He thought it was sometimes good to start fresh.

Noctis shrugged. “It’s your decision.”

Prompto couldn’t tell if he was put out or not, so he just hoped it was “not.” Celebrating in December would just be weird.

“What would you even ask for?” Gladio asked. Ignis and Noctis didn’t comment, but they did look interested. “If we were celebrating now, I mean.”

“Well, you guys kept my camera and I have a phone now, so…”

Noctis chirped, “And us.”

Prompto groaned lowly, face warm. Now he nearly regretted that confession. “And you.”

“Anything else?” Ignis asked.

He hummed thoughtfully. “I guess I’d want some contacts?”

Noctis blinked. “Oh, right.” He slouched a little further and lightly kicked Prompto’s knee again. “Everything’s probably all blurry, huh?”

Prompto shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I didn’t even think about it until now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Gladio asked.

It was true Prompto was farsighted, but his eyesight wasn’t shitty enough that he couldn’t see Gladio when the man was right in front of his face. The lowkey headache he’d had for the past half a day or so was a bit of a bummer though.

“I said I didn’t think about,” Prompto protested.

“We sparred yesterday,” Gladio said. “I had you at a disadvantage.”

“I don’t know if you know this, big guy, but I think you could kick my ass if I had twenty-twenty vision and _you_ were the one who needed glasses.”

“He’ll need glasses soon if he keep reading after dark all the time,” Noctis said. He was too far away to hit, so Gladio settled on an unimpressed look instead.

Ignis nodded once, looking thoughtful.

“I take it your prescription hasn’t changed?” he asked.

Prompto ran a hand through his hair. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Ignis still had his prescription written down somewhere. He was still touched though. “It shouldn’t have?”

“Then I’ll make a call later,” Ignis said.

Prompto grinned. He could see the guys well enough for now, but getting rid of the minor headache that had been plaguing him for the last day and a half would have been great. “Thanks, Iggy. You’re the best.”

“I am what I am,” Ignis said, not even trying for humble.

Noctis tilted his head back to look up at him—he had slid halfway down Ignis’ side at this point, one foot flat on the floor in what must have been an uncomfortable position—and Ignis stonily faced the other direction as though he could sense Noctis’ look.

Gladio rocked to his feet.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for Noctis to follow. “Let’s go return these dishes to the kitchens.”

“The king returns his own dishes?” Prompto teased.

Noctis stuck his tongue out at the title, then glanced up at Gladio. “Don’t we have staff for that?”

“It’s called an after lunch walk,” Gladio said, “and you could benefit from it.”

Noctis hummed in distaste, but miraculously, he crawled to his feet without much protest. “You coming, Prom?”

“Nah,” Prompto said. “I think I’m good here.”

With his stomach so full, he felt tired, and he still hadn’t recovered from his earlier stretching out on top of Gladio—who might as well have been a bed for how comfortable Prompto felt laying on top of him. Maybe Noctis was rubbing off on him too much. As awful as they would be, the early morning exercises with Gladio would whip him back into shape after this bout of laziness.

He made a mental note to go on a jog later tonight. After telling the guys, of course.

Gladio gathered up the plates on the tray. Noctis shrugged. “Suit yourself. Specs?”

“I believe I will remain here as well,” Ignis said. “You two may have fun gallivanting across the castle as you wish.”

Noctis said, “It’s only to the kitchens,” just as Gladio said, “We sure will, Iggy.”

Gladio began to usher him out the door. Noctis eyed him suspiciously.

He heard Noctis ask, “This isn’t you trying to trick me into doing my stretches, is it?” but the door shut before Gladio could reply. Prompto smiled.

“He still won’t stretch without prompting?” he guessed.

“He only gets worse with age,” Ignis agreed.

Prompto barked out a laugh. He rose to his feet for his own after meal stretches and then wandered over to the large window on the opposite wall. The windowsill was wide enough to fit an adult or two if they tried hard enough, and he plopped into place and cracked the glass.

Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of Ignis popping an earbud back in and listening to his emails again, but the sky outside begged Prompto’s attention. The air didn’t feel as cold as it should have for December, especially with the dark clouds that had rolled in at some point. He wondered if it would snow later. He hoped it would, even though the air felt a little too warm for that.

A breeze blew in through the window. It tickled Prompto’s bare feet, so he pulled his legs closer to his chest. The afternoon had passed so nicely; he was afraid to break that peace.

“Hey, Ignis?” Prompto said when the silence had begun to get to him.

Ignis tapped something. One earbud hung loosely from his ear. “Yes?”

Prompto squirmed. He felt like he was already being judged, though that could have been his own guilty conscious. Ignis had that kind of aura sometimes.

The lie that had settled on his tongue had been easier to ignore earlier, when it had been all four of them together, relaxed and easygoing and nobody wanting to fight. Now that it was only Ignis, however, it was harder. Ignis was too clever to hide from.

And it was hard to lie when he didn’t want to lie in the first place.

Gladio was the best, socially. He could make anyone feel at ease in a moment, though Prompto would have been lying even more if he said he wasn’t wary of any judgement he’d receive after he’d missed his opportunity to come clean earlier. Though maybe that had changed about Gladio too. He’d certainly seemed more lenient than his past self…

Comparing the past and present again made Prompto’s stomach churn. He moved on.

Noctis was as awkward as Prompto some days, but he was always genuine. Prompto felt extra guilty for having lied to him first when they were alone, though. Plus, he wanted an outside perspective first. Someone who would speculate on all the possibilities and would listen until the end, even if he didn’t like what he was hearing.

“So, um.” Man, Prompto really regretted not being honest that morning. “You know, earlier, when you guys asked about Shiva…”

“I know you were lying, Prompto.”

Prompto threw his head back. “Seriously?” he moaned. “I should have known.”

Ignis chuckled. His voice was warm, even if there was a slightly pinched look around his eyebrows. “It seems I haven’t lost my knack for telling when you’re lying from voice alone.”

“Nope. Can’t ever pull one over on good ol’ Ignis.”

Even Prompto could hear the strain in his own voice then. He buried his face in his knees in an attempt to get his bearings. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ignis set the touchpad on the ground, the headphones neatly piled on top.

The distance between them felt suddenly too large. Part of Prompto wanted to crawl off the windowsill and pull Ignis close, to bury his face in Ignis’ shoulder and ignore it all, but that would have just been avoiding the inevitable.

Besides, the chairs weren’t meant for two. Prompto could have suggested they move to the lounge chair at the foot of the bed, but that would have been weird to suggest when they were having a serious talk. Plus, Ignis was all settled in with his work and—

“You’re overthinking again,” Ignis broke in. A man of infinite talents.

Overthinking. Right.

He sucked in a breath to steady himself.

“When I saw Shiva—” And the whole “Shiva is Gentiana” thing was still weird. “She said… She said Noct was the one who brought me back. Or, was the reason, I guess.”

There was a pause as Ignis processed this information. Prompto didn’t look at him.

“How?”

The clouds rolled by slowly overhead. Another breeze blew in through the window, and Prompto suddenly wondered if Ignis minded it. If so, he hadn’t complained.

“He wished,” Prompto said. He started tapping on his ankle in rhythm with an old song stuck in his head for want of anything else to do with his hands. “Not purposely, I think, but Shiva said it was because he wished. For me. Actually, I think it was like… a follow-up on his destiny as king? Or something?” It had certainly seemed tied to how well Noctis worked as king, at least. “Shiva said that because Noctis had wished for it and because he’d been a good king for a certain amount of time, she brought me back. Because they owed him one? Or because of his willingness to ‘sacrifice’ himself?” He shook his head to clear it. “I don’t know. It was confusing.”

“Dealing with Astrals often is,” Ignis said. He sounded contemplative.

After a moment, he continued, “I suppose it is not only the Oracle that may call upon a covenant with the Astrals then. Or perhaps because Noctis had already claimed the covenants previously, he was still able to call upon them after his ‘duty’ was completed, whether subconsciously or not.”

Ignis sounded incredibly matter-of-fact, not unlike a scholar debating an ancient text. Prompto couldn’t imagine how he was looking at everything so reasonably when it felt like someone had put his own brain in a tornado and twisted everything up inside.

Prompto fidgeted some more. He had no idea what the make of it all, and honestly the whole topic made him uncomfortable.

“I have no idea,” he said honestly.

If he was being honest with himself—digging past the layer of confusion and the part of him that didn’t want to think about it at all—things felt… _final_. Like, for all meeting Shiva had left him bewildered and wanting more, it felt like something had slotted into place as well. For some reason, the nagging fear in the back of his mind that he was going to fade away at any moment had vanished. Maybe that was somehow Shiva’s doing too.

So he was still confused and left with few answers, and he didn’t know if he’d ever see Shiva again. At the same time, he didn’t think things would go awry again either, unless he messed that up himself. Though that was just a feeling.

He didn’t know how much a feeling was worth. Something.

He said as much to Ignis. Ignis listened to Prompto ramble, silent, and when he was finished, Ignis leaned back in his chair and bit at the inside of his mouth. A bad habit.

At the end, Ignis said, “You know you will have to be honest with Noctis and Gladio as well, correct?”

Prompto’s mouth twisted only because he knew Ignis couldn’t see it.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know. I will.”

“Good,” Ignis said.

And then, because it felt like they were both waiting for something, Prompto picked himself out of the windowsill and carefully stepped over to Ignis. He slid into Ignis’ lap. Ignis’ hands immediately came up to his hips to steady him.

“Sorry,” Prompto said after realizing how little warning he’d given. “Is this…”

“It’s fine,” Ignis said, leaning forward so they were face to face. “It’s perfect.”

Prompto settled down. It was a little uncomfortable trying to keep himself steady like this, and his legs felt pretty cramped between Ignis’ hips and the chair, but it was worth it. Ignis’ hands on him helped a lot, mentally and physically.

Ignis’ sunglasses had come off some time ago, but it was only now that Prompto caught himself staring. Not at the scar, not really. Just looking at Ignis. Taking him in.

Prompto’s breath caught.

“I just.” He didn’t want to fumble anymore. “It’s just been a lot, you know, and I wanted to think on it some more before I said anything. It’s just—hard. For everyone, I know, just…”

“Prompto,” Ignis said.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest sooner,” he said.

Ignis tilted his head. “You’re being honest now,” he said. “And considering we’re still within the same six hour span as when you first started thinking this new information over, I’d say you get a free pass this time.”

He was teasing. Prompto frowned.

“But…”

“Prompto,” Ignis said seriously. “Privacy and taking time for yourself is okay. Honesty is about sharing those concerns, not bottling them up forever. You’re allowed to think things over for a bit before you share them. The honesty part comes in so long as you do, eventually, share them.” His head tilted as though he was thinking about something else. “So long as you don’t contemplate the same thing for weeks at a time and only share your thoughts under extreme duress, you’re doing just fine.”

Prompto leaned back a little. “Does that happen?”

Ignis shook his head.

“We can all be stubborn fools sometimes,” he said, sounding equal parts fond and exasperated. “But no, not so much anymore.”

“Good,” Prompto said. He was smiling despite himself, and Ignis wore a tiny fond smile as well. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. “For understanding. I know things have been kind of weird lately and I’ve been funky all afternoon, but. I’m really glad to be back. Don’t think I’m not.”

“I could _never_ ,” Ignis reassured him. His arms tightened around Prompto’s waist. “And for the record, so am I.”

There was something so different about Ignis’ voice. Prompto couldn’t name it. It made his heart skip a beat.

They were kissing before Prompto even realized what was happening. Kissing Ignis was different than kissing Gladio. His face was less scratchy, for one thing.

The thought made Prompto grin without thinking, and he felt Ignis’ hands travel further up his back before setting somewhere between his shoulder blades. He felt Ignis’ mouth slip into a smile as well.

“Something funny?” Ignis asked, his voice low. They were still so close.

“Nope,” Prompto said. He leaned back in.

Ignis’ lips were smoother than Gladoi’s as well, though they both knew how to use them. His nose pressed against Prompto’s a little uncomfortably, which made Prompto want to giggle until they adjusted themselves. Ignis’s eyes were closed—they were almost always closed—so Prompto let his eyes fall shut as well, getting lost in the feeling of Ignis underneath him.

A tongue brushed Prompto’s lower lip. The feeling was ever so slight, yet unmistakable. Prompto parted his lips further, chest swelling, but Ignis retreated. He caught Prompto’s bottom lip between his teeth. He was gentle, all things considered, but Prompto still couldn’t hold back his gasp. His arms came up around Ignis’ neck. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

They did have to stop eventually though, and there was a wet smack as they pulled apart, which—sounded gross, actually, but also kind of hot. Prompto opened his eyes.

Ignis’ scarred eye was still closed, but his unscarred one was slightly open, and Prompto could see a tiny bit of moisture gathered at the corner of his eye.

“Well,” Ignis said, a little breathless. “Thank goodness for chosen kings and their wishes.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, voice soft.

They leaned into each other, foreheads touching. Prompto measured the passing time in heartbeats. There were a lot.

The door opened. Gladio whistled lowly at them. Noctis held up a plastic bag and stared accusingly.

“Seriously?” Noctis said. He looked up at Gladio. “Prom keeps getting it on every time I leave the room.”

“Jealous?” Gladio teased, closing the door behind them.

Noctis pouted, setting the bag down on the table. “Maybe.”

Prompto laughed. He slid off Ignis’ lap and placed a quick peck on Noctis’ cheek. He caught Gladio staring and winked.

“Hey,” Prompto said before he could lose courage. “There’s something I have to mention.”

 

 

 

In the end, Noctis stared at him, dumbstruck, and even Gladio, who sat on Noct’s right, arms crossed and back stiff, looked like he was trying to keep his composure. They both sat on the lounge while Prompto and Ignis stood in front of them.

“So, yeah,” Prompto concluded. He toed the floor. “Sorry I wasn’t honest earlier. I just—needed some time to think.”

He felt Ignis at his back, silent but supportive. He breathed in.

“And that’s all we have to go on?” Gladio eventually said. “A feeling that things are fine?”

Prompto shrugged. “Basically.” He scratched his head. “But, you know, I’m pretty sure things are going to work out this time.” He grinned at Gladio, flashing his teeth. “When have I ever been wrong about anything?”

“Most of the time,” Gladio said. Under his breath, he quietly muttered “Typical,” but he didn’t sound angry. Prompto didn’t think Gladio was referring to him, but he felt better when Gladio peered up at him and flashed him a self-assured smirk anyway.

Nobody said anything for a moment. Ignis cleared his throat.

Noctis had been silent since the minute Prompto had started talking, and now all eyes were drawn to him. Prompto waited for the king to say something, his anxiety near off the charts.

 Noctis looked back at him, seemingly starstruck.

“Wow,” Noctis said softly. The quietest words in the world, though it felt like the whole room had gone hush. His eyes were so wide. “ _I wished for you.”_

All that talking about Astrals and their confusing wills, and that was the part Noctis chosen to focus on.

But really, that had been the crux of it all, hadn’t it?

Prompto melted.

His heart fluttered. His face warmed.

“Yeah,” he said as Noctis stood and curled his fingers around Prompto’s cheek. “You did.”

 

 

 

Later, with Noctis lying on his chest and Ignis on his left and Gladio fumbling around with something near the table, Prompto realized that things couldn’t have gone any better. He’d expected a long debate about what to do or how to contact Shiva. Something. Instead he got a long cuddle pile and some very nice intimate time with the guys.

Not that he was complaining.

Still, it was strange.

“I’m done with Astrals and their plans,” Noctis had said, somewhere around the time he’d curled over Prompto like a vine and refused to budge. “I’m grateful to Shiva, but if you’re here because I did my job right, then we’re even. No more prophecies. We don’t owe them anything.”

Prompto had looked around then. Ignis had nodded, and Gladio had looked back, ever steady.

Dryly, Ignis said, “Galivanting around the world for the whims of gods only has so much appeal the first time around, I’m afraid.”

“What he said,” Gladio agreed, brushing his thumb over Ignis’ knuckles.

So without any more cause for alarm, there would be no running around Eos in search of some kind of deeper meaning or greater plan. It would just be the four of them, doing… whatever they wanted, Prompto guessed. Noctis wouldn’t be on the throne for much longer anyway. There would be no reason they had to stay in the Citadel at all, soon enough.  

That sounded all right by Prompto. He could figure out his own purpose in his new life by himself.

He reconsidered that thought as Noctis’s arms snaked further around his waist. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do it _totally_ by himself.

Outside, he noticed, it had begun to snow.

“Hey,” Gladio said, startling Prompto out of his thoughts. “Catch.”

He tossed a small box through the air, and Prompto miraculously managed to catch it with one hand. He might have fumbled a bit, but it didn’t hit the floor, so he still counted that as a win.

“Whoa,” Prompto said, pushing Noctis off his lap as he hastily sat up. “You guys got my contacts already?”

“It’s not as though your prescription is particularly abnormal,” Ignis sniffed.

“They’ve been soaking for a while already too,” Gladio said. “Go see how they fit.”

Prompto whooped. He rolled off the mattress, ignoring Noctis’ whining, and made his way to the bathroom mirror. It took a few moments of fumbling and letting his eyes readjust, but the sudden clarity in his vision when he finally got the contacts in felt heaven sent. The whole world came into focus. Details sharpened.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Noctis propped himself up and asked, “How’d they fit?”

“Perfect,” Prompto said, blinking hard. There was a little pressure behind his eyes that would go away as he adjusted to the feel of contacts again. “It’s like I can see for the first time in my _life_.”

Prompto caught himself. For a moment nobody said anything.

Then Ignis began to chuckle, snorting loudly. It was exactly the kind of joke that appealed to him—obnoxious and only better if it had been a real pun rather than simple situational humor. His snorting was loud and a little ugly and perfect for setting Noctis and Gladio off. Ignis lowered his head in embarrassment, shoulders shaking with mirth, as everyone else laughed along with him.

It wasn’t until the words had left his mouth that Prompto realized saying them—cracking a joke like that—hadn’t been as difficult as he thought it would be. It didn’t feel _good_ , exactly, but Ignis and Noctis and Gladio’s laughter sure did and—yeah. Yeah, he could get used to that. Someday.

He hadn’t realized how heavy the weight in his chest had been until it suddenly left. He felt whole.

“Don’t forget to take those out before you go to bed,” Noctis said once the laughter had died down. Prompto stuck out his tongue.

“I won’t!”

“I’m just saying,” Noctis continued. “I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night because _Noooct, my eyes are itchy_.”

“That wasn’t even a good imitation of me,” Prompto protested. “And I don’t sound like that.”

“You absolutely do,” Noctis said.

“More than a little,” Ignis added.

Prompto pouted. “Do not. And anyway, I only left my contacts in, like. Twice.”

“More like two hundred times,” Gladio said.

“That does sound like a more accurate statement,” Ignis agreed.

Prompto flopped over the bed, moaning dramatically. “You guys are the _worst_.”

“We’re the best,” Noctis said.

“Absolutely stunning,” Ignis agreed.

“You’re lucky to have us,” Gladio finished.

Groaning, Prompto buried his face in the pillows to hide his smile. In the back of his mind, he was reminded of the first time they had visited Galdin Quay. Before things had gone to shit, obviously. The guys had said something obnoxious like that back then too.

Some things did change with time, Prompto decided. Some things did not.

Suddenly he felt somebody flick him in the back of the head. Prompto quickly sat up, shooting Noctis an accusing look. Noctis stared back, smug.

“What did I just say about taking your contacts out before bed?” Noctis said.

Prompto shoved him away with a pillow. “It’s not even dark yet!”

 

 

 

Eventually, however, it did get dark.

In the morning Ignis and Gladio and Noctis would go off and do their jobs, leaving Prompto alone for most of the day, probably. But they’d discussed it some more and agreed he could go off exploring new Insomnia alone as well. So long as he kept his phone on him, of course. And didn’t wander into too many areas where identification would be an issue.

He was legally a dead man, after all.

“We’ll remedy that as soon as the proper paper are in order, of course,” Ignis said. “But for now you’ll have to make do.”

Being a dead man wasn’t so bad, Prompto eventually decided. At least, it seemed significantly better when he thought of himself as the protagonist of a secret spy game who had to fake his own death in order to throw the enemy off his scent. That seemed like a game Prompto would enjoy playing, at least, so living it wouldn’t be so bad for a while.

They could figure it out. One day at a time. By this point Prompto was pretty sure thinking about too much at once just spoiled the day away.

What had Gladio said once? “Worrying means you’ll suffer twice.” Or something. He’d probably been quoting somebody, but Prompto thought it still applied.

Coincidentally, it was Gladio who was climbing into bed when Prompto caught himself feeling the same restlessness he’d felt some nights before. Again, it was the kind of jitteriness that came from being stuck between a rock and a hard place when he wanted more space to roam. It was a stronger urge than what had been tugging at him the past few nights, and it didn’t take much for Prompto to figure out he just _really_ didn’t want to sleep in the middle again.

He felt he sudden urge to bounce his knee or play on his phone. The urge to do _something_.

He’d been ignoring that thought recently, for the guys’ sakes, but now…

“Hey,” Prompto said, pushing himself up on his forearms, his earlier payoff in honesty fueling his bravery. “What if I slept on the outside tonight?”

The guys all paused, frowning. Gladio had one knee on the mattress and one foot on the floor. Prompto barreled forward.

“You know,” he added. “Like we used to.”

The tightness in Noctis’ shoulders seemed to relax a little. Even Ignis nodded.

“Fine,” Noctis conceded, to Prompto’s surprise and glee. “But tomorrow Gladio and I are switching places.”

Ignis raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “As if the King Blanket Hog could spend a night outside the center of the bed,” he said.

Noctis opened his mouth.

“Or away from Ignis,” Gladio added.

Noctis shut his mouth. He was definitely pouting again, even though he probably would have denied it if asked.

Prompto didn’t roll over immediately. Gladio must have realized he’d forgotten something in the bathroom, because he actually dropped the edge of the blanket and wandered away for a moment. Prompto took the opportunity to press himself against Noctis’ back. He tucked his nose into Noctis’ shoulder and threw his arm out, grabbing what he thought was probably Ignis’ hand. Ignis squeezed back.

Noctis shivered.

“Go put a sweater on or something,” Noctis complained. “You’re too cold.”

“No way,” Prompto said. He shoved his toes under Noctis’ calf and smiled as the king yelped. “I’m not wearing a sweater to bed. That’s what blankets are for.”

“But you’re so _cold_.”

“I thought it was your job to warm me up?” Prompto sighed dramatically as Gladio returned. He took that as his cue to turn and crawl over Gladio’s side to the edge of the bed. It took some shuffling and more than a few complaints from all of them, but eventually Gladio ended up on the inside of their little pile with Noctis, as Ignis and Prompto bracketed them on either side.

Prompto beamed. He liked the edge way more than being trapped in the middle. Now he could get up to go to the bathroom without having to crawl over everyone. He was closest to the wall outlet too. _Sweet_.

He pressed himself against Gladio’s side after tucking the edges of the blanket under his legs. “Now Gladio can warm me up. Isn’t that right, big guy?”

“I’m sure I can figure out a little something,” Gladio drawled, cocky. He pulled Prompto closer, away from the edge of the bed. Prompto’s phone was still within arm’s reach, which was good because he was pretty sure he’d be getting the three A.M. insomniac attacks soon enough. He’d been sleeping too well recently for it to continue.

Noctis huffed. Gladio rolled his eyes. On the other side of the bed, Ignis said something to Noctis too soft for Prompto to hear.

“Come on, Noct,” Prompto said, resting his cheek against Gladio’s bicep. “I still love you, pillow hoarding and all.”

“You’re the pillow hoarder,” Noctis said, hidden somewhere behind Gladio’s bulk.

There was a pillow between Prompto’s knees and two nearby for when he got tired of Gladio’s arm, so he wasn’t exactly wrong. Prompto waited.

After a beat, Noctis said, “Also I love you too.”

Ignis snorted again. He and Noct had a quiet back and forth until that, too, settled down. The lights were out, and the room was still. Gladio felt really warm.

Prompto’s eyes had fallen closed before he’d fully realized he was closing them. He suddenly felt very tired.

“Do you think it’ll continue to snow tomorrow?” Prompto muttered into Gladio’s skin.

“Thanks for drooling on me,” Gladio said. His voice was a low rumble in his chest. “Maybe. Haven’t checked the forecast yet.”

“I believe the snow today was a bit of a surprise,” Ignis whispered. “Though it should remain quite cold for the next week or so.” He was so quiet. Noctis must have fallen asleep.

Prompto hummed lowly. Sleep was settling upon him like a fresh blanket of frost.

“I like the snow,” he sighed.

It was true. Those days, after he’d fallen off the train, it had been snow as far as the eye could see, and Prompto alone in the center of it all. It had been quiet. Freezing. Awful. He’d hated the white.

But it hadn’t stayed awful, and while he was sure any chill he felt from now until the rest of his days would remind him of those nightmarish weeks spent making their way from Gralea back to Insomnia under no sun or stars, he also remembered the first time he’d gotten into a snowball fight with Noctis. He remembered dunking a snowball on Ignis’ head and then running for his life. He remembered Gladio falling on his ass because of the ice on the sidewalk and how Prompto had laughed and laughed until his stomach ached. He remembered how his neighborhood had looked when he’d been a kid, neighbors making snow angels and snowmen and shoveling their walkways together.

The cold was a mixed bag for Prompto. But he still liked the snow.

He felt Gladio’s broad hand stroke some of his hair back. In his mind’s eye, half asleep, Prompto could picture Ignis doing the same for Noctis. Just like they had so many times before.

“I know,” Gladio said softly. “Get some rest.”

So Prompto slept. Outside, the snow continued to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, here we are! This is the ending of what I'm calling the "core" of this series. I might post some one-shots or drabbles and such in the future, but I'll be marking this series as "complete" for now so nobody is waiting months on end for anything. I'm always open to discuss non-spoiler stuff either here or on my tumblr, though there isn't much else to spoil, I think, unless I start developing specific new material.
> 
> [Here is a link](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/post/165740865995/had-me-feeling-like-a-ghost-part-5-meta-notes) to a post on my tumblr in which I've done some meta-talk about this series, but if you have something more specific in mind (about this series or about any of my other fics/anything in general) that I don't cover anywhere, feel free to leave a comment below with your thoughts, comments, questions, etc. or you can hit me up over at my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/) I promise I don't bite!


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